


Medfet Mommy

by TheEvangelion



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Age Play, BDSM, Diapers, Doctor Lena Luthor, Doctor/Patient, Dom Lena Luthor, F/F, Gloves, Lesbian Age Play, Lesbian Kara Danvers, Lesbian Lena Luthor, Lesbian Medfet, Lesbian Medical Kink, Lesbian Mommy, MedFet, Medical Conditions, Medical Kink, Mommy Domme, Patient Kara Danvers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Restraints, Shameless Smut, Speculum, Sub Kara Danvers, Supercorp Kink, Supercorp bdsm, lesbian bdsm, lesbian smut, mdlg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28814898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/pseuds/TheEvangelion
Summary: Prompt: Medfet MDLG Supercorp (would love to see catheters/latex gloves/examinations/ageplay/humiliation/forced diapering [just for aesthetic/embarrassment more than anything else] etc.)*OR*Kara and Lena are in a loving MDLG lifestyle relationship. One of the benefits of dating a scientist is that work and play don't have to be all that separate, not when Mommy has a laboratory at her disposal and an eager little crybaby who wants only the meanest, invasive, most clinical treatment...Plus lots of kisses, cuddles and spoiling afterwards for being such a good girl.
Relationships: Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Kudos: 169





	Medfet Mommy

“Mommy?” Kara whimpers out, breathless and exhilarated.

She’s on all fours on top of the shiny exam bed, shoulders dropped low and her bottom pushed high just as the scientist had instructed. The air-conditioning leaves her skin in a waking state of goosebumps — all of her hairs stood on end like little needles bursting up from the skin.

She can hear things, the creaking of drawers, the snapping of latex gloves against the wrist, the squelch of lubricant right from the tube. It reminds her of the first time they played in Lena’s laboratory, the mind-numbing ease of being her nervous little kinky patient, her bottom played with in all sorts of perverse ways, body tinkered with in only the most unbothered, clinical of fashions.

Fuck, Lena was so good at being the dark, dominant, devilish scientist. In Kara’s mind, it would never become boring, it would never be tame or pedestrian. She was twenty-three years old cowering like a little crybaby for her Mommy-Domme—black scrubs on, gloved up and ready, hushing little condescending reassurances—and yet Kara had never felt safer, never felt more _free_.

“Kara my work is very important,” Lena says, her voice a low, throbbingly serious tone. “Are you going to be a good girl or do I need to restrain you?”

“Restraints please, Mommy,” Kara murmurs, face pressing to the pillow to hide her grin. “You call me crybaby for a reason, remember?”

“Well, well,” Lena sounds pleased with that. “I like it when you put on the waterwork. You sound so pretty when you cry lovely, cathartic tears.” She loops the soft leather restraints around her ankles, tightening them as far as she can so there’s no escape. “ _Babyish_ , but very pretty.”

“Are you going to be mean, Mommy?” Kara grows hopeful.

“Spread your cheeks,” Lena doesn’t skip a beat, stern and almost disinterested. “We have the whole afternoon, I’m sure we’ll find out just how mean I’m feeling the long way around…”

***

Lena slips the speculum inside of her vagina, turning the screw and opening the blades while the crybaby does exactly what her name implies. An extra half-turn stretches her wide enough to make the pressure a little too uncomfortable to sit with quietly, and when Lena watches the two restrained feet either side of her begin to curl and kick, she allows the speculum to rest, wedged deep inside a tiny flexing hole that cannot spit it out despite how hard Kara tries.

“Mommy,” Kara whimpers, her little dripping hole flexing on the speculum. “It aches—”

“It’s supposed to,” Lena interrupts and rubs her hip, as though it’s utterly inconsequential. “You’re so tight down here, princess, I would be concerned if it didn’t hurt a little. Can you imagine what kind of filthy, dirty whore would get off on a speculum shoved deep in her cunt? Latex fingers stuffing deep in her twitching little bottom? No, certainly not my good little girl.” Lena faintly chuckles behind her mask.

Index finger first, Lena pushes inside of the puckering asshole rocking back and forth on braced knees. It makes Kara cry out, panting, processing the invasion of her orifices on a second to second basis as the pressure on her perineal fascia grows and compounds itself.

“You’re not enjoying this, are you?” Lena asks sternly, push-pulling her latex finger on the desperate little bottom that sucks and grips tight. “I hope not…”

“A little, Mommy,” Kara admits, huffing and losing all of the air in her chest as a second finger presses into her asshole. “Okay that… that’s intense,” she gasps hard.

“Then cry, cry it all away, cry like you always do, crybaby.” Lena twists her knuckles inside her drippy lubed-up bottom.

Kara seems unsure of what to do, but not in any kind of overwhelmed, frantic way. She rocks her hips, crying thick huffing tears, pulling on her restraints as though she needs to test how far the slackness will take her. No dice, her wrists move no further than an inch or two.

There’s electrical adhesive pads placed in determined spots around the inside of her crybaby’s thighs. Plugged in, waiting to go, they sit there without a live current like a promise of what’s to come, or perhaps just a threat.

Lena turns the dial up on the TENS machine to something detectable but not yet painful, a sensation that feels more like squeezing pulses rather than cramping waves. It draws Kara’s entire attention to the things that are happening between her legs, her drippy cunt, her slick tight bottom, and in that regard Lena becomes unavoidable. She holds her crybaby’s attention like the earth holds the moon — effortless and absolute.

“Now that I have your attention,” Lena clears her throat. “Be a good girl and tell me when you start to feel close to an orgasm. For your sakes, I hope you don’t cum without asking permission…” She slowly thrusts her fingers.

As though to merely demonstrate how wide the speculum keeps her little drippy hole open, Lena slips two gloved fingers from her other hand inside her vagina with utter ease, pressing down and curling into a cunt that can’t close on her fingers despite the constant flexing.

“Such a good girl.” Lena watches hips roll back and forth on her fingers.

The praise seems to do things for Kara. Of course it does, Lena hangs all of the stars in her crybaby’s sky with nothing but softly uttered encouragements — she knows this, wields it like a weapon, hushes tendernesses as though they’re war-drums to keep her sweet girl pushing forward to the place Lena wants to take her to.

She watches as restrained hands grab and clutch the metal railings, shoulderblades twitching and shifting as Kara’s body fights itself. _Pretty wondrous creature_ , Lena thinks, slipping her slick fingers around her hot wet lips.

“Good, good girl,” Lena hums and slips back inside, pressing into the wall of muscle that separates her fingers. “Just relax and let me work, there’s no escape Kara, only endurance. You see it’s mind over matter…” The clinician speaks in only the most clipped tone. “I don’t mind, and you do not matter.” She traces a gloved finger around the tiny cervical opening, noting its position for the tape recorder as though her actions serve some sort of medical purpose.

***

In the dimly lit laboratory, the crybaby whimpers and shifts uncomfortably on her side — half in and half out of sleep like a wayfarer treading the line between consciousness. The day had took it out of her, and Lena had precisely zero complaints. She had been such a good girl, after all.

“Mommy,” Kara whimpers, twisting uncomfortably. “I don’t like it…”

“I know, but I do.” Lena presses her hand into the crinkling material between Kara’s thighs. “It must make you feel so silly and small, princess. I think you look so very, very cute.”

It was for aesthetic purposes, that was the limit that had been drawn around forced diapering and Lena didn’t mind one little bit. The sight of it was enough, and it made her feel protective and perverse all at once. Her sweet little plaything laying there with her holes plugged and stuffed, a bullet vibrator stuck right between her wet cunt lips on low, sealed in a pretty-pink embarrassing diaper. It was nap-time, Lena had instructed it, and her little princess tried her hardest to oblige but… her situation was distracting.

Lena enjoyed being a distraction to her own instructions, truth be told.

“Mommy,” Kara whimpered when black latex gloves found her chest, rubbing her nipples, trailing down her belly and then cupping the thick dry diaper between her legs. “Please can’t we play again?” She presses her cunt down into Lena’s palm, unable to get the direct contact or friction that she needs.

“Don’t you like it when I’m sweet to you, princess?” Lena croons, her fingers finding that little buzzing toy through the material and pressing it expertly. “Isn’t it nice for you not having to make the rules?”

“But I’m so turned on,” Kara murmurs through gritted teeth.

“Mhm, I know you are.” Lena clambers over the railing and sinks herself into the bed, snuggling up behind the whiner and holding her tight. “You’ll still be achingly turned on when you wake up though, don’t you worry about that.”

Just like that, Kara seemed to instantly settle: as though her Mommy’s arms were a comfort blanket, as though the safe dominant shape of her girlfriend was all it took to make her sink and comply. Lena rubbed her belly, pecking the back of her shoulder, holding her just so.

“You were such a good-good girl,” she whispers and clutches, holds her and tucks her arms around her belly. “Just close your eyes and have dirty dreams, when you wake up we can play with whatever drippy little mess you’re hiding in here…” She rubs the rustling pink material between her clenching legs.

“Okay Mommy,” Kara’s tone drops to that sleepy, submissive, content sound she makes when she’s on the edge of good dreams. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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